


Overcoming Social Distance

by ImaniJoain



Series: Unlikely Singularities [38]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Kink, Long-Distance Relationship, OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23250001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaniJoain/pseuds/ImaniJoain
Summary: Steve and Darcy are having trouble getting their schedules to match up following their immensely satisfying second/third date. When a small mistake makes Darcy feel guilty while she is across an ocean from Steve, and a little bit of Vodka inspires a phone call confession, what is Steve to do but help his girl feel better?Ostensibly, takes place January 30, 2017 after Chapter 7 of Inaugural Week. In reality, probably only works into Unlikely Singularities if you are feeling extremely generous due to COVID-19 induced cabin fever.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
Series: Unlikely Singularities [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/727278
Comments: 16
Kudos: 76





	Overcoming Social Distance

**Author's Note:**

> I think we are all feeling a little bit of social distance - if you aren't you probably need to check the news. We also all need a little something to help us get through working from home - or potentially losing out on paying work, pandemics, school closures, loss of human interaction, and health warnings. Maybe Steve and Darcy can give you some good ideas for what to do with your down time. ;)
> 
> It's a little OOC, but have a cocktail (I mean, you aren't driving anywhere), ignore those work emails that are piling up, tell the kids they can't talk to you until they have done fifty sit ups, and enjoy a small break from The VID.

_**January 30, 2017** _

“Darcy,” Steve answered the phone with a smile that she couldn’t see but which he couldn’t help. He opened the door to the weapons research and testing lab at the upstate facility, the last stop on his completely unnecessary spot inspection. It was empty, as expected at such a late hour local time and with Tony in New York for the week. He was at loose ends since Darcy had taken a work trip to Berlin and Clint had the base running smoothly. Really, he was just hoping she was calling to say she was coming back sooner than expected and they could have their fourth date. The third one had ended exceptionally well - so well he was still a little sad it had ended.

“Steve.” Her voice was tense, tight, not nearly as warm and verging on joking as it usually was.

Steve’s relaxed posture stiffened and he secured the door behind him to ensure privacy. “Are you okay? Your security detail told me there had been an incident, but the report said it didn’t get physical. I didn’t want to be overbearing, I know you can handle yourself, but -”

“Oh, god. Of course they told you.” She made an alarmingly wounded sound.

“Darcy,” his concern ratcheted up to worry. “What happened, Sweetheart? How bad is it? I can be there in,” he checked his watch, “six hours.” He’d have to commandeer a quinjet, and push through a flight plan, and probably face a humiliating conversation with Sam and Buck and definitely Tony for going AWOL, but if she needed him he would make it happen.

“My lips.”

Steve leaned against a work table, not certain what to do with that declaration. “Your...lips?”

“My stupid, traitorous, adulterous lips. I am so sorry, Steve, I was caught up in the moment. The first time it was stupid and I was younger but there was all this adrenaline and tension and we could have died and then the intern kept a car from falling on me. But today, when that asshole who is always blasting Jane online said Ian had been fired because-”

_ Adulterous. _ That was something his brain would have to come back to. It implied a level of commitment that Steve had not discussed with Darcy, but he had to admit he liked. More than liked - loved the sound of and the hot, unshakable feeling of possession and certainty that came with it. It also implied some acts that Steve did not like the idea of _ at all. _

“I saw that on the web,” he broke into her continuing babble regarding how awful and cliche she felt she was. She wasn’t, but Steve was still kind of stuck on not imagining the worst case scenario for  _ adulterous. _ “Before we knew each other. You kissed a boy in London.”  _ Boy _ \- because the skinny young man was barely old enough to be out of short pants. Steve was well aware he had no right to be concerned with what Darcy may or may not have done before they met. But he had thought that he might have a least a little bit of a right after their last date. 

“My intern,” she wailed quietly. “And you  _ saw _ . I wish you hadn’t, I wish  _ I _ hadn’t. And then I did it again. This jackhole jumped me outside of the press conference at the University to denounce Jane and it turns out Ian is going to school there and he came to see me speak but then this guy! And Ian totally pushed into the fray and defended Jane and her research and I was just so - like blown away and grateful? And it didn’t mean anything, it was on the cheek, for fuck's sake! LIke I shouldn’t even care and you shouldn’t care but apparently now I am a person who worries about dumb shit like this especially after a couple of cocktails and let’s be honest I just shouldn’t have! But I did and we should have talked earlier about exclusivity but I had assumed and that means it is entirely my fault, not even a miscommunication and that makes me a  _ cheater  _ and who would cheat on you? Me, obviously. But no one else because you are literally perfect - except for how you drool in your sleep and I can’t believe I am bringing that up because I have no room to cast stones and you-”

“Darcy. You kissed Ian...Weathersby?” Her non-stop, fast-paced talk with just a hint of slur was leading Steve to the conclusion that alcohol may have led to Darcy blowing things out of proportion.

“Well. Yeah.”

“Today?”

“Yeah.”

“On the cheek? Because he defended Jane’s theories?”

“Yeah.”

Steve held his breath, sure he knew the answer but still anxiously awaiting to be proven right. “Is that all?”

“Um. I patted him on the head? Which was weird, and  _ super  _ awkward, because I was thinking about you and how you might see me pressing my face up against some weirdo grad student’s face and that isn’t even, like, a thing you should be concerned about or anyone really and who even cares? Like it was obviously totally platonic, nothing at all. And then it was over but I could  _ not _ stop thinking about you seeing it and knowing about it and I had a couple of drinks with Natasha at the hotel and now I, I just really, fuck I am an idiot hot mess right now.”

She stopped to suck in air and Steve took the opportunity, “Did you want there to be more?”

“Ew. Gross. No.”

He relaxed, smiling once more. “Then maybe it’s time we talked about exclusivity. I am all for it. Have been since I first saw you run into a burning building.”

“Steve,” she let out a relieved laugh, “you didn’t even know me.”

“Yep. Hasn’t been anyone for me since then. Didn’t want there to be.”

“Not even stupid, gratitude-fueled kisses to interns? Or army-agent-gals, or whatever?” Her voice was smaller and quieter than he was used to from Darcy. It was a little sad, like she wanted to beat herself up over it. Steve wouldn’t say he was happy that she had kissed someone else, but he was also smart enough to realize that he had no claim on her - nothing official - and a kiss on the cheek was certainly nothing to get worked up over.

Not that he didn’t want to have a claim on her. He emphatically, viscerally did. He wanted her to have the same on him. He just hadn’t yet figured out how to do that when they’d only been on three dates, and that was with a great deal of latitude on the definition of dates.

“No, Sweetheart. No one but you.”

“God,” she repeated, despondent. “I had to go and ruin things. I’m not sure which is worse, the kiss or getting heavily buzzed and calling you like a neurotic moron. How do I make up for this? I can’t make up for this. Do you want to be even? Please, fuck, forget I said that. I don’t want you to get even. No matter how batshit I act, please don’t do that. Blame this whole conversation on Natasha’s heavy pour.”

Steve’s mind was churning. He didn’t want her to keep flogging herself over this, he wanted her to know he understood, that he forgave her. That there was nothing to forgive and it was actually a little flattering that she had worried what he might think. He definitely wanted them to come out of this closer and more committed to each other. 

He remembered the last time they had been together, when he had playfully swatted her on the butt after their second - third? round. She had yelped and moaned and giggled and called him Captain. She had jokingly offered to send him a video of her spanking herself - for his spank bank, she had said, while she was away in London.

“Do you want to be exclusive, Darcy?”

“Yes,” her answer was fast and emphatic.

“And do you want to do something to make it up to me? To prove you won’t let anything like this happen again?” He should have finished with, ‘happen again while we’re together’, but he didn’t. Steve had a few plans in play, and if at least one of them worked out he wouldn’t have to worry about a time when he and Darcy weren’t a couple.

“Yes, yes anything. Anything to make you forget about this entire phone call. But I don’t know how I can-”

“Sweetheart, are you alone?” He hoped she was. She usually was when she called. Text messages and emails were for conversations, phone calls were mostly reserved for extremely serious subjects and dirty talk. Both required privacy.

“Oh. Uh.” He heard a door opening and closing. “Yeah. I mean, Natasha’s out doing Natasha things. And there are the two security dudes in the hall.”

“What kind of food do you have on hand?”

“What, ah? Um,” she let out a smokey laugh, “No whip cream, if you were wanting a show, Steve.”

“Captain,” he corrected, biting his lip to see if she wanted to play this game.

“Oh. Oh! Hell  _ yes _ . Shit!” There was a clatter, and then her mouth was closer to the receiver. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I dropped the phone.  _ Captain _ .”

Hearing her say his title, especially with the soft, dark tone she had that implied everything he was hoping for, sent blood rushing straight to his cock. The door to R&D could be opened by anyone with a clearance code, and it wasn’t exactly a great place to keep a private conversation private. Or to make certain no one noticed the sizable tent in his tactical pants. He keyed in the lock code and put Friday into privacy mode.

“Ms. Lewis,” he replied, enjoying the way her breath caught as he described a few options that might work for what he had in mind. It didn’t take long for her to collect what she needed and have everything ready in her bedroom with the door locked. 

“Ready. Sir.”

Steve stifled a groan at her throaty ‘sir’ and opened the door to the ballistics test booth. It was soundproof, solidly built enough that he could put his weight into a wall without it collapsing, and an extra layer of protection against exhibitionism if anyone should come into the lab. He closed the door behind himself and turned on the video chat function. It took a few seconds for Darcy to accept the new call, but when she did he was treated first to the sight of her full red lips, bare throat, and the creamy swells of her breasts. She propped the phone against something to free up her hands, and then he could see her whole beautiful face. Blue-green eyes, already blown wide with desire were framed by a soft mess of dark curls and her glasses. The angle of the camera also gave him a great view of her open shirt - a plaid button-up she must have stolen from his place - and the prettiest tits he had ever seen. Her bra wasn’t one she would normally wear, claiming her girls needed extra comfort and support. He wondered if she had changed clothes while she was pulling supplies together. The mesh of the cups was ivory and sheer and barely contained her soft, pink nipples. He swallowed the reflexive,  _ Jesus Christ _ , that threatened to burst out. 

“Ms. Lewis,” he began, and had to clear his throat before he could manage the stern tone and expression the game called for. “Ms. Lewis you have admitted to doing something you knew was wrong.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You put your mouth somewhere it shouldn’t have been.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It seems clear to me, that you need to learn the difference between right and wrong. Between what your lips should touch and what they shouldn’t. Do you know what should go in your mouth, Ms. Lewis?”

“Food?” She replied, eyes sparkling. Her hands were out of sight, below her waist.

“Being a smartmouthed girl won’t help your case, Ms. Lewis. And you will address me with respect.” He had to reach down one-handed and adjust himself when she licked her lips and nodded hard enough to make her breasts shake. 

“Yes, Captain. Sorry, sir.” One pale hand drifted up to touch her throat, smoothing across her jaw and catching on her lower lip. She knew  _ exactly _ what she was doing to him. “Is it  _ you _ , sir?”

_ Fuck it. _ He began working on his belt. “That’s right, Ms. Lewis. Good girl. Now, I can’t give you the lesson you deserve right now.” 

She pouted, actually fucking  _ pouted _ at the idea that he couldn’t fuck her six ways to Sunday right then. Steve nearly broke his zipper pulling it down.

“But you will make good use of your wait, Ms. Lewis. While you are waiting for your lesson, I want you to think about what you did wrong, and what you will do right in the future.”

“You, Captain?” Her fingers dipped inside her mouth and she sucked lightly on the tips, eyes wide.

“Yes,” he growled. “And you will practice, Ms. Lewis. As many times as it takes to assure me that you can perform your duty willingly, correctly, and with enthusiasm.”

“Yes, sir,” she purred. 

At Steve’s instruction, she pulled a still green banana from a fruit bowl somewhere out of his line of sight. It was, of course, no where near the size of the real thing, but it was smooth, cylindrical, and had enough give that he didn’t have to worry she might hurt herself. He had her play with it first, demonstrating how she should kiss, and lick, and suck. Her free hand danced across her breasts and down below her waist without any prompting from him. The sounds she made as she followed his every order had him gripping himself tightly and struggling to maintain some semblance of control over the game. When she dragged the substitute for his cock down her throat and across the tip of her right breast, Steve knew he wasn’t going to make it until she had finished. 

“Use the honey,” he directed lowly. 

“Like this, Captain?” Her left hand brought up the tiny squeeze bottle from her breakfast gift basket, and he could see her first two fingers were soaked, practically dripping with her own juices.  _ Maybe she will finish first. _ She lightly coated the entire length, before the bottle and her fingers disappeared again.

“Like that. Now, take as much as you can, slowly. Slowly, Da- Ms. Lewis.” 

A few centimeters at a time it disappeared past her full red lips. Steve pressed his thumb against the head of his cock, feeling pre-cum leak across his hand. He was close. When she was halfway done, her throat began to tense.

“Shhh. Relax, like a good girl. Take it out. Use your tongue. Pinch your clit.”

Her eyes widened and the light flush on her cheeks darkened when she realized she had been caught pleasuring herself. 

He chuckled, but it sounded dark. “I will let it  _ slide _ this time, Ms. Lewis. Next time, ask permission first.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Her eyes met his through the camera. She winked and lightly ran her teeth up the side of her substitute for him. Steve nearly strangled his cock with his sudden grip. 

“Back in, now. Slowly. Breathe through your nose. When I get my hands on you, we’ll see how well you have learned, Ms. Lewis. I expect you to take your time and show me how much you appreciate putting your mouth where it belongs.” The more he talked, the more excited they both became, until Darcy was working five inches of honey-covered phallus into her mouth and throat and grinding down on her own hand. Steve could feel tightening at the base of his spine.

“If you...if you don’t do a good job, Ms. Lewis, I may have to resort to other measures. I may have to take the flat of my hand to your bottom.” He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from coming at the excited, lust-filled expression on her face. “If you do a very, very....” Christ, his dick was harder than it had ever been before and he had a fleeting thought for how he was going to clean up a gallon of cum from the ballistics booth. “Good job, Ms. Lewis. If you do just, exactly...like...that! I’ll show you where  _ my _ mouth belongs.”

She moaned through a full mouth and every muscle Steve had tensed up.

“Cum now, Darcy. Finish with me, Sweetheart!”

Steve slid down the wall, barely holding onto his phone without crushing it as he spilled out over his hand. Four long spurts landed on the floor, the ballistics gel block, and his pants, but he couldn’t look at anything but Darcy. She didn’t finish with him, but he was almost grateful she was a few seconds behind so he could focus entirely on the wet part of her full lips as she dropped her toy and called out his name. Her breasts, one smeared with a streak of honey, shook as she tensed around her rapidly working hand. When finally she relaxed, boneless, she slumped out of sight but must have bumped the table or shelf where her phone was propped up. It tumbled down, giving him a millisecond view of her sprawled on the carpet, completely naked except for her bra, panting and with shiny stripes from her own fingers across her thigh and hip. He wanted to hold her and lick every inch of her body. Then the phone connected against her skin with a soft slap and went dark. 

Steve’s cock twitched with interest, despite still being covered in his own orgasm.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” His voice sounded hoarse, even to his own ears.

“Mmm.” Light fluttered and moved across her camera before he could see her face again. She was flushed, glowing with sweat, and absolutely gorgeous. “So good. You?”

“Messy,” he replied, to make her laugh. She did, and he grinned at her smile. “But also so good. I wish I was there. I wish I could touch you and taste your fingers and smell you.”  _ Christ. Her smell. _ He was getting hard again just thinking about it, about how delicious and irresistible she must smell right at that moment. Steve considered asking for more from her, even as he pulled a handkerchief gingerly from his pocket to wipe off his hand and pants. He glanced from his now stained handkerchief to the dark eyes and swollen lips of his girlfriend - thousands of miles away. 

He had only had one night - and a very long morning to study her, but he wished now he had a picture of her wet, open, body, soft and ready for him. It didn’t matter that he had just cum, Steve knew he wasn’t going to be able to walk right until he had a cold shower or had taken his cock in hand again.

“Will you show me?”

“Why Steven,” her lips quirked in a naughty smile that sent heat flushing through him again, “are you asking, or ordering?”

“Asking.” At her raised eyebrow he lifted his still sticky fingers, enjoying how her pupils dilated again and her mouth fell open. “Begging.”

“Do you…” she licked her lips. “Want to beg? Do you want me to...run the show?”

“If you’ll show me,” he countered. Her breath hitched. His did too. He was surrounded by his own musk - sandalwood, leather, salt, sweat, and cum. And his perfect recall reminded him of her scent - sweet vanilla, floral lavender, amber, and dark, salty hints of her arousal.

“Steven Grant.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, Sweetheart. Please can I see you? All of you?”

“If I give you what you need, Steven,” The camera began to drift down. Creamy neck. Heaving chest. One gorgeous, round, heavy tit. Pink, hard nipple begging for his mouth. “Then you have to do what I say. Can you do that? Can you be a good boy?”

“Yes,” he groaned. The smooth skin over her ribs. Soft, biteable slope of her waist and belly.

“Hmm. There is a store.” The camera hesitated, drifting back and forth from her hip to her belly button. “On the internet. If you send in your measurements. Your exact measurements. They will make me a copy of you. For trips just like this. I think that will be much more fun than a banana, don’t you think, Steven?”

“Yes.” It didn’t matter what she asked. She could have told him he needed to fly to Berlin that day and let her paint him blue and fist his ass and he would have done it.

“Oh, you  _ are  _ a good boy.” The camera dipped lower, lower. Darcy was bare. Completely, perfectly bare. Smooth and pink and swollen and wet. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered. His cock was ten seconds away from exploding again without a single touch.

“Is this what you needed, Steven?” Slim fingers parted her outer lips, still reddened and flushed with blood from her attention. Her clit - he was going straight to hell because he would have sold his soul to wrap his lips around the pearl of flesh that had escaped its hood, engorged and practically begging him to pay attention. He sucked in air and nearly blacked out at the view and the sudden loss of blood to his brain. “It’s better,” she was practically whispering, slowly slipping two fingers into her dripping cut, “when you’ve been here to stretch me out and -”

Whatever wonderful, terrible, amazing thing she had been about to say was cut off with a muffled thud and a shout of her name on her end of the call.

“Fuck!” The phone fumbled, Steve lost the best view he’d had all day and then Darcy’s bobbing face came up. “Nat’s back. Sounds like security wants to move up my next meeting. I have to-” There was another thud and shouting. “Fuck, I have to go. Text me. Hope to see you soon. Keep that warm for me.”

The call ended abruptly leaving Steve with a raging hard on thrusting out of his open pants and a ballistics booth dripping in semen. He blinked, unable to stop the smile on his face despite his position. Only sixteen hours until she would be back. 


End file.
